


bloodlust

by vonseal



Series: garlic and blood (and a bit of love) [8]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Cheating, Crossdressing, Explicit Language, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, M/M, Making Out, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Smut, Unrequited Love, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal
Summary: bin is dead.dongmin makes his move.
Relationships: Kim Myungjun | MJ/Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo, Kim Myungjun | MJ/Moon Bin
Series: garlic and blood (and a bit of love) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541464
Comments: 17
Kudos: 63





	bloodlust

**Author's Note:**

> we got some 2j up in here. 
> 
> weirdly enough, it isn't that raunchy

He had fallen asleep right before morning, Bin absent from his side.

Myungjun wasn’t overly concerned. Bin sometimes took longer than necessary while hunting. Perhaps he had found a chase, someone who brought exhilaration into his life, someone who knew what he was and ran from danger. Bin loved the chase. He liked watching humans turn sharp corners and sprint into alleyways. He liked cornering them at the end and letting them know how much fun he had. Perhaps he had just found someone rowdy enough for his liking.

Or, perhaps, he had gone to a bar or gentleman’s club. Sometimes he liked to unwind and catch up with acquaintances (he never called them  _ friends _ , and so Myungjun would not, either). He would drink a bit, perhaps play a round of billiards, and then return home right as the sun was beginning to rise.

Regardless, it was unimportant. Bin always came back, and so Myungjun curled up in the large bed he shared with his lover, awaiting his return. Bin would try to sneak into bed, as he always did, and would inadvertently wake Myungjun in the process. They would share a few kisses and sleep plastered against each other, surrounded by the bodily warmth they could no longer feel.

Except Myungjun woke when the sun was high in the sky and his body was still groggy and the bed was still empty. He blinked blearily, staring at Bin’s vacant space, before throwing the covers off of him. He flung Bin’s ugly, yellow robe over his head and peeked out of the doorway. There was movement in the parlor, and hope reared in his chest as he tip-toed down the hallway and to Bin’s favorite room of the house. Upon opening the door, however, he discovered no Bin.

He  _ did _ discover Angela tidying up the parlor, her maid’s dress an appropriate length (she had worn one slightly above her ankle, but Bin kept making sultry comments until she changed). She glanced up when she heard Myungjun and offered him a small smile.

“Hello, Myungjun,” she greeted. Her face was still covered in healing bruises, and the skin looked yellow and blue and dreadfully swollen.

“H-Hello,” Myungjun responded. He gestured at his own face and stammered over his question. “Is...hurt?”

“No.” Her smile was tight and Myungjun knew she was lying. She was a curious person. Stubborn and tough, though, and Myungjun loved her for it.

He couldn’t make small-talk in English, and so he changed topics. “Bin is here?” he asked.

She blinked. “No,” she repeated. “Is he not with you?”

Angela always used small, easy words when speaking with Myungjun. Her sentences were never too long, nor were they too complex. Myungjun was appreciative of that fact, even more so at the moment.

He shook his head. So Bin hadn’t arrived home after feeding? It was unlike him to stay out for so long. Perhaps he got held up, though, and had to coop himself up in the darkness so the sun would not hurt him. Myungjun latched onto that reason, deciding to ignore the plethora of trouble that might befall a vampire.

The only thing he could really do, then, was wait for nightfall. Bin would return. He always did. 

“When...when Bin comes,” he said, struggling through the words, “um...tell? Tell me?”

Angela’s smile this time was genuine and sweet. She nodded her head and responded, “Of course! Sleep well, Myungjun.”

At least she seemed better than when they had left her hours earlier. Myungjun wanted to ask if she was alright, but he couldn’t remember the correct words, so he merely nodded his head and retreated back to his bedroom.

He tossed the robe over the back of a chair before plopping down in bed. Sleep would be difficult to attain. He wasn’t used to sleeping without Bin; since he had moved into Bin’s fine apartment, they hardly ever slept apart. And, hell, even when they  _ were _ apart, it was merely because Bin said something ridiculous and was banished to the couch. Even then, though, Myungjun found it difficult to sleep. If he couldn’t wrap himself around Bin’s tall, strong body, then sleep was deemed impossible. 

He was restless, dozing in and out of dreams, until finally the sun set. Once he noticed it was night, he climbed out of bed, dressed himself properly, and scurried down the hallway. 

Bin wasn’t there. Dongmin was, however, standing at the doorway and talking to Angela. When they caught sight of Myungjun, Dongmin offered him a brief smile.

“May I come in?” he asked in Korean. Myungjun gave a sigh and nodded his head before bombarding his friend with questions.

“Have you heard from Bin? Have you talked to him at all since last night? Have you seen him? Has Minhyuk seen him?”

Dongmin raised his eyebrows as he shrugged off his coat. “Is Bin not here?”

“No.”

Dongmin passed his coat and hat to Angela, who hung them on the coat rack. She said something to Dongmin, who listened intently. Myungjun grew impatient; he was too anxious to properly translate the English words, and he wished they would speak only in his native language.

“I haven’t heard from him,” Dongmin commented when Angela had finished talking. “Where did he go last night?”

“He went to grab a bite,” Myungjun replied. He knew Dongmin would be well aware of what that phrase meant. There would be no explanation needed.

Sure enough, Dongmin nodded. “He hasn’t come back since?”

“No.”

“Does this happen often?”

“No.”

“And you’re sure he did not inform you of any plans?”

Myungjun narrowed his eyes at Dongmin and snapped, “I had not known I would be interrogated for Bin’s disappearance.”

“I’m merely—”

“I shall go look for him, since you seem more concerned with wasting my time.” Myungjun reached for his own coat. Dongmin, however, grabbed onto his wrist, a scowl adorning his face.

“No need to be rude,” he scolded. “I shall help you look. Bin is a friend, and I’m worried about him.”

Myungjun was grateful for the help Dongmin was offering, though he didn’t choose to show it. Not many people would likely scour the night in order to find a dangerous vampire, but Dongmin chose to. He had a busy day and he was likely looking forward to coming home and relaxing, yet he made not one peep of complaint as he followed Myungjun outside.

“Well, then,” he muttered, shivering in his heavy coat. “Where shall we start?”

Myungjun narrowed his eyes as he stared down the street. Where would Bin have disappeared to? Perhaps he got lost in a pub, or a gentleman’s club, as Myungjun had assumed earlier. But there were so many that he frequented, they likely wouldn’t scratch the surface by the time the sun came up. He had to retrace all of Bin’s steps, then, and so he pointed down the road.

“Hudson River,” he commented.

Dongmin looked upon him with disbelief. “The Hudson? Why the hell would Bin go down to the river?”

“It’s where he dumps bodies after feeding,” Myungjun responded, already beginning to walk. Dongmin scurried after him, sticking rather close to Myungjun’s side as he awaited the rest of the explanation. “We met up there quite a few times after we first made acquaintances.” 

He didn’t want to get into the details of those meet-ups, but it seemed Dongmin was already well aware of the situation.

“Ah,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “Yes, Bin has, er, informed me of those meet-ups.”

“Oh, lovely.” Myungjun rolled his eyes, side-stepping a carriage before it could clip his shoulder. “Bin does like to discuss the most lewd things, does he not? I’d be shocked if he has yet to tell you about our sexual endeavors.”

“He tells me plenty,” Dongmin grumbled.

Myungjun was curious, and he figured they had quite a walk ahead of them, so he asked, “Like what?”

Dongmin blanched. “I’d...It would be terrible of me to repeat such things! Especially when they concern  _ you _ .”

“I’ve lost all sense of morality long before I met Bin,” Myungjun joked. “Do not worry about  _ such things _ . I’ve likely heard, seen, and done worse.”

Dongmin, however, did not respond with the latest of Bin’s sexualized stories, nor did he profusely apologize for even having such knowledge, as he once would have done. Instead, as he kept pace alongside Myungjun, he asked, “Why do you not talk about life before you met Bin?”

Having not expected such a question, Myungjun stumbled. He blinked rapidly, trying to think through Dongmin’s words, then asked a question of his own. “Why are you curious?”

“I mean, it’s natural to be curious about your friends. We’re close, and yet I don’t hear much from you about your personal life. I don’t hear much from Bin, either.”

“Oh? Bin is rather loose with his lips when it comes to himself.”

“No, I mean...Bin’s told me plenty about himself. He’s told me nothing about  _ you _ , though.”

Myungjun wasn’t sure what to say. He stammered out a response of, “He—he doesn’t know much,” but he knew that left more questions than answers. Indeed, as he glanced over, Dongmin wore an expression of great intrigue. Bin often wore such an expression, though Bin was able to push his aside, knowing he would likely never truly hear much of Myungjun’s past. Myungjun wasn’t sure how to tread through such a topic with Dongmin, who was pure and innocent in his questioning, who was merely curious. Bin was easy; Myungjun feigned exhaustion and Bin would drop the subject altogether for weeks. Bin never pushed him nor inquired too much, and Myungjun preferred it that way. He kept his secrets from Bin, and he knew Bin did the same with him.

But how could he keep such secrets from sweet Dongmin? It was hard, looking into Dongmin’s wide eyes, and he found himself muttering, “My life was uneventful.”

“Was it?”

“For a vampire hunter, it was fairly uneventful, yes. I did nothing more than the average bloke would have done.”

“And that means what?”

“Well, I needed money to come to America. I had nothing left in Korea after my mother passed, and America was a land of opportunity and an abundance of vampires, and so I involved myself in a few unsavory practices in order to find the money.” He looked away from Dongmin as they walked, then asked, “What about yourself?”

“Huh?” Dongmin seemed confused to have the conversation turn so suddenly.

“Why did you come to America?”

He heard Dongmin’s hurried footsteps just beside him, but he still didn’t look, afraid he would betray his inner feelings. Talking about his past sometimes made him nervous. Bin was accepting and Bin never judged him, but he was terrified that Dongmin would hear of his evil deeds, of the pleasure he received from killing, and of the degradation of his body. Dongmin was a bit more uptight, a bit more inexperienced in the ways of the world for a poor man, and Myungjun would never want Dongmin to look upon him differently. 

Fortunately, Dongmin answered the question with no hesitation. “I come from a wealthy Korean family. When I was fifteen, I decided to travel to America. I was young and foolish and wanted to have an adventure. Of course, my adventure didn’t last very long as I found I’m not the adventurous sort, and so I managed to enroll at Harvard.”

Myungjun gave a small hum and nodded his head, then asked, “What the hell is Harvard?”

“A university. You’ve lived here for how many years and you know nothing of  _ Harvard? _ ”

“I don’t make it a point to know many educational institutions here in America, and I haven’t lived here for very long. Just...just a few years now.”

Dongmin gave a small hum and continued, “When I finished my studies, I was the top of my class. I decided to aim higher, and so I worked with politicians and eventually decided to become a politician. To this day, I’ve no idea how I won the election. I can only assume the passing of the fifteenth amendment allowed more immigrants to vote for me than would have before; my voter base was primarily immigrants.”

Myungjun had no idea what amendment Dongmin was referring to. He vaguely remembered Bin speaking of such a thing, referencing it on occasion when discussing a political piece he would write for the newspaper, but Bin never did go into depth about politics. Myungjun tried his best to keep up on the daily happenings by talking to Dongmin, but if the amendment was passed before he and Dongmin became friends then he knew nothing of it.

Still, he didn’t wish to appear ignorant, and so he nodded his head as if he understood.

“And,” he started, turning the corner that would lead them straight to the banks of the Hudson River, “I suppose you enjoy being a politician?”

Dongmin was quiet for a second before responding. “I suppose. It’s alright. I’m hated by the other representatives, however, and with my most recent scandal, it will become difficult to win reelection.” He sighed. “I guess I can start a business. I’ve always wanted to run a business. That would make me more money than being a politician would, anyway.” 

“What sort of business?” Myungjun asked, finding himself growing a little curious despite his effort to make it to the Hudson in record time.

“Dry goods?” Dongmin suggested. “I’m not sure. Something like that, I guess. Ah, well, I have time to think about it. Elections aren’t for a while, and unless the people call for my resignation, I shall stick with politics for a bit longer.”

Myungjun nodded his head, quiet as they came upon the sound of rushing water. Though it was dark, Myungjun could see the banks of the river, and he stepped out over the mud to look down into the Hudson.

Dongmin was silent, too, standing beside him and staring upon Myungjun with interest. “Any ideas?” he finally asked after the silence had stretched on for far too long.

“No.” Myungjun inhaled deeply. “I can smell his scent, but it’s very vague. Water always interferes with my sense of smell, and I’m not very good at distinguishing scents, regardless. Bin is far better than I am.” He glanced behind him and frowned. “Let us retrace his steps, then?”

“Haven’t we done that already?”

Shaking his head, Myungjun responded, “He returns home a different way. He likes to enjoy the sights, and sometimes he goes for a drink at the bar.”

So they continued to walk, traversing down a path familiar to Myungjun. The streets were still, devoid of people, and the moon hung high in the sky to light their way. Myungjun stopped every so often, sniffing the air to ensure they were in the correct location, and then he would continue.

Halfway home, he realized he could smell Bin stronger than before. It was overpowering, and he stopped where he was, swiveling his head around as if Bin would appear if he looked down every alleyway and at every shadow.

“Is something the matter?” Dongmin asked, reminding Myungjun of his presence.

“I…” Myungjun trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what any of this meant, except for the fact that Bin likely bled somewhere close by. “I smell Bin.”

“Stronger?”

“Much stronger. He’s...he’s either around here, or he…” Myungjun didn’t finish his statement. He merely began to investigate, looking at the ground and at the walls of buildings. It wasn’t until he turned another corner that he found drops of blood sprinkled across the pavement.

He felt like he would hyperventilate. Here was proof of Bin’s demise, staring him in the face. Bin had been bleeding, and Bin had disappeared. Had he been taken out by a hunter? That was the most likely option; Bin wasn’t careful sometimes. He was impulsive and reckless, and though he was smart, he was easily taken unawares.

Dongmin’s voice rang through his thoughts. “Myungjun? Myungjun, look up at me. Take some deep breaths.”

“What…” Myungjun croaked out. He felt dizzy with despair. “What if he’s dead, Dongmin?”

“What do you mean?”

“His blood is...it’s right here. It’s…” Myungjun knelt to the ground and swiped a finger across the stain. Nothing came up; it had been there all day, walked over by dozens of humans, too small and useless for anyone to notice. It could have been any old stain, but Myungjun knew it was blood.

It was Bin’s blood.

He lifted his finger to sniff at it, and felt himself falling apart even more when he confirmed it was Bin’s.

Bin was dead.

**(•̥̥̥w•̥̥̥)**

Myungjun could hear Dongmin and Angela talking about him. He wasn’t exactly sure what they were saying, and he didn’t care to translate, but he could hear small pockets of their conversation.  _ Myungjun _ and  _ Bin _ were the most common words; but he also heard  _ dead _ and  _ blood _ and  _ alone _ .

It was nothing but a terrible reminder of everything that had happened. Bin was gone. Myungjun was alone.

He curled up on the couch, knees hugged into his chest as he stared at the fire Angela had started for him. “It’s cold,” she had cooed, setting him down gently, as if he was made of glass, as if  _ he _ was the one who was pregnant and bruised and in mourning. With her black dress and black eye, she looked just as miserable as Myungjun felt.

Dongmin had taken her elbow and led her into the kitchen to speak with her. They had left Myungjun all alone.

He knew he ought to get used to this feeling. With Bin gone, he had no one else. Dongmin would die and Angela would die and Minhyuk would die. Sanha would stick around, but Sanha was an awful replacement for the one Myungjun had lost.

His breath hitched, and he rubbed at his eyes in an effort to stop his tears from flowing. He had been crying since Dongmin brought him back. He felt silly and weak and effeminate, but Dongmin had shed his coat and murmured, “I’ve seen Bin cry before, back when he thought you had died. It’s alright to cry. I won’t think any less of you.”

So he remained a useless lump of tears, sobbing out his sorrows onto the uncomfortable fabric of Bin’s sofa.

The conversation in the kitchen died down. Dongmin came into the room and sat down beside Myungjun, reaching out to run his fingers through Myungjun’s hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t even imagine how horrible you must feel.”

Myungjun squeezed his eyes shut.

“But it wasn’t a lot of blood, Myungjun. There’s still a heavy possibility that Bin is out there. Maybe he hurt himself on accident; we both know he’s a fool.

“He would’ve come back,” Myungjun responded. “If he hurt himself, he wouldn’t stay away for so long.” Indeed, the night was drifting away and the sun was beginning to rise. Myungjun knew he should drag himself into his bedroom and hide from the thing that could kill him, but death was looking to be like the more lavish option. 

Dongmin’s fingers stilled briefly before continuing to brush across Myungjun’s forehead. “Perhaps he’s in trouble. I do not think he is dead, though. Bin is far too crafty for death to take him.”

Myungjun gripped at the pillow beneath him. He felt so helpless, and he sobbed out, “Wha-What am I to do now, Dongmin? Bin is dead, and I’m all alone.”

“I’m here with you,” Dongmin countered.

But Myungjun knew better than to believe that. He buried his face into the pillow and said, voice muffled and laced with tears, “You will die, and I will live forever. I have no one by my side for the rest of my immortal life!”

“Myungjun—”

“The-the only reason I was fine with being turned was be-because I could stay with  _ Bin! _ Without him, I have nothing!” He suddenly shot up, however, and faced Dongmin. “Y-You must kill me, Dongmin.”

Dongmin blanched. “What?”

“Kill me. I don’t want to live forever without Bin; I’d much rather die. I have...I have so many things you could kill me with! Silver might be the best, but perhaps I deserve to suffer. I can choke on garlic, or else you can burn me with sunlight, or—”

“I will  _ not _ kill you.”

Myungjun glared at the man he once called his friend. He wasn’t sure if Dongmin deserved the title of  _ friend _ any longer. What good was a friend if not for killing? Myungjun huffed and then gave a small sniffle, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, then, I shall have to kill myself.”

“Don’t.”

“It will be an easy matter. I can just walk outside in the daytime, or I can gorge myself on garlic, or I can stab myself in the heart with silver.”

“You’re insane,” Dongmin breathed. “Shall I stay with you, Myungjun? Shall I stick by your side an ungodly amount just to be certain you will not commit suicide? I should have you checked into an insane asylum, where you will be monitored for the rest of your life.”

Myungjun flopped back over again, feeling quite pitiful. “My life will go on forever and ever. There is no  _ rest of your life _ for me. It’s simply  _ life _ .”

He was met with silence. It was as if he never spoke, never said anything. He remained in his position for a few seconds, sprawled out over the couch, before his curiosity finally got the best of him. He poked his head up and saw Dongmin’s thoughtful and troubled expression.

“Dongmin?”

“Hm?”

“What is the matter?”

Dongmin cleared his throat and then glanced at the door behind him, as if checking for Angela. When he seemed satisfied with her distance, he murmured, “I was wondering if, perhaps, Bin truly is dead, then...maybe I wouldn’t mind being immortal with you.”

Myungjun blinked. Did he hear that correctly? Was Dongmin implying that he would like to be a vampire? Was he asking if he could take the place of Bin? Myungjun felt slightly offended hearing Dongmin disregard Bin so readily, but he was too shocked to actually respond to that portion of Dongmin’s suggestion.

Instead, he asked, “Are you mad?”

“It was merely a thought.”

“First off, Bin is  _ not _ dead.”

“You were the one who said he was.”

“Perhaps I’ve changed my mind.” And it was truly an easy matter for Myungjun to believe otherwise in such a quick turn-around. He decided he didn’t  _ want _ to believe Bin was dead, for believing that would mean Myungjun was all alone without his trusty partner-in-crime. He was still a new vampire, still struggling to fit in with his expected role, and Bin led him along with no hesitation. If Dongmin was turned, then Myungjun would have to lead  _ him _ along, and Myungjun knew he wasn’t at all qualified for that responsibility.

He sat up, wiping at his tear-streaked cheeks and staring at his friend. “Besides,” he continued, “I thought you would be here for Angela.”

Dongmin, once more, glanced behind him. “I...I will be.”

“You love her, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Dongmin, the conflict brewing in his eyes, reached out to grab one of Myungjun’s hands. “It was just a thought, Myungjun. It meant nothing. I just truly cannot stand to see you alone and suffering in such a manner. I wanted to do what I could to ease your suffering.” He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss onto Myungjun’s forehead, then drew back with a soft smile. “Perhaps my idea was foolish, then, but if you ever need any help, do not hesitate to come to me. I will continue to look for Bin, and I will continue to stand by your side no matter what happens.”

Myungjun stared back at such innocence. Perhaps he missed Bin more than he thought, or perhaps two nights alone had left him starved for attention, but he found himself wanting  _ more _ from Dongmin.  _ Kiss me all over, _ he wanted to beg.  _ Fuck me hard as Bin does _ .

Ah, but Dongmin was a shoddy replacement for Bin, wasn’t he? He smiled so kindly, without a trace of mischief. He was pure, really, a perfect specimen who ought to remain unsullied from Myungjun’s despicable, vampiric touches. Dongmin’s hands were not stained with blood, nor was his heart burdened with the deceased. 

He was so clean, so bright, so  _ beautiful _ .

Myungjun had always found Dongmin quite attractive. He had such a bright smile and clear skin. His hair was dark and silky, his eyes wide with intrigue and joy, and his nose quite regal. He was tall and rather lithe. He dressed in fancy clothes and spoke with fancy words. He was humbled, too, and would readily deny his beauty; Bin complimented himself only, and was quick to accept the compliments of others without a sense of humility. 

And, yet, despite all of Dongmin’s great attributes and all of Bin’s terrible ones, Myungjun loved  _ Bin _ .

That didn’t stop him from leaning forward and placing a kiss onto Dongmin’s lips.

He had already kissed Dongmin once — or was it twice? Dongmin only ever made a move when he had been drinking, when a rejection wouldn’t be as horrible to bear. Myungjun had never made the first move before. This was new territory for him. Ever since he had met Bin, kissing other people gave him little excitement.

Sure enough, kissing Dongmin did nothing except remind him of what he had lost.

Before he drew back, he swiped his tongue over Dongmin’s lips. Dongmin gave the smallest of moans, then whimpered out, “We-We shouldn’t.”

“We won’t.” Myungjun sighed as he fell back onto the couch. “It was a moment of weakness.” A moment of stupid, stupid weakness. Hadn’t he overcome his desire to be held and kissed and fucked? Hadn’t he decided that only Bin would be able to love him so intimately? And yet here he was, reverting back to how he used to be. He truly was nothing more than a disgusting vampire. He was lustful and gross, and he deserved death.

“If only I had been the one to die,” he mumbled, turning to bury his face into a pillow. “I deserve death. Bin doesn’t. Bin is too perfect, and I’m despicable.” 

Dongmin’s hand came to rest between his shoulder blades. “Myungjun,” he croaked out, likely still in shock from the kiss. Myungjun, too humiliated, didn’t dare look up at his face. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have...I understand, you must hate me now. I’m...I apologize.”

Myungjun sighed. He felt his tears returning and he struggled to keep them in check. No use in crying like a fool. “It was not your fault. It was mine.”

“No, I continued it, and I—”

“Go get some sleep,” he ordered.

“I wanted to—”

“Dongmin, go to sleep  _ now _ . I want to be left alone.”

Dongmin hesitated, then asked, “Do you promise you will not kill yourself?”

“Death is more than I deserve,” Myungjun responded, his face still pushed into the pillow. “I shall keep myself alive. Being alone for an eternity — I believe that is a good punishment for a filthy vampire.”

The hand on his back tensed. “Myungjun—”

“Get the fuck out of my parlor, Dongmin.”

He heard a sigh. The hand left; if Myungjun was human, he knew he would have felt the warmth leave. He wished he could feel, for he would deserve to feel cold. “I’ll sleep with Angela for a few hours. I am rather exhausted,” Dongmin murmured. “We’ll be just down the hall, alright?”

Perhaps he didn’t expect a response, for he didn’t wait around. He left, and Myungjun waited until the door was closed again and Dongmin’s footsteps sounded down the hall.

Finally alone to wallow about in misery, he allowed his tears to flow once more, curling up into himself and sobbing.

“Fuck you for doing this to me, Bin,” he gasped out, hoping Bin’s spirit would be listening.

If his punishment was to be alone for the rest of eternity, though, he doubted he would have Bin’s ghost to comfort him. No, he was truly and utterly alone.

**( ŏ̥̥̥̥///ŏ̥̥̥̥)**

He had never found it so difficult to drag himself to the morgue. Usually, he was raring to go, excited to cut open yet another body and see what lay underneath the folds of skin. He enjoyed his visits, though it smelled like embalming solution and decay and the coroner was strange. But with Bin’s disappearance hanging over his head, Myungjun wanted to do nothing more than to curl up underneath the bed sheets and cry himself to sleep. 

He had promised to attend the next autopsy, however, and he refused to go back on his promises. So he dressed himself in the fine clothes Bin purchased for him. He arranged his top hat well and pulled on his gloves, staring at his reflection in the tin mirror Bin had ingeniously created. Vampires were often unable to see their reflection on any regular mirror; apparently, tin worked well as a replacement.

Just as he readied himself to walk out the front door, Angela came into the parlor. She blinked, looking surprised to see Myungjun, and asked, “Are you alright?”

Myungjun was uncertain how to respond. He looked at his maid, dressed still in all black, and shrugged his shoulders.

Her lips tugged downward. She rushed forward and gathered Myungjun in a hug, patting his back. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her foreign accent somehow comforting. “It will be okay.”

Myungjun didn’t quite know what to say to that. He returned the hug as best he could, willing his hands not to shake as they wrapped around Angela’s smaller body. She was a warm presence, and he appreciated the embrace she had given him.

However, he remembered how he had kissed Dongmin the previous night. He had kissed Angela’s lover, the only person Angela now had in her life. He cleared his throat and pulled back suddenly, refusing to meet her gaze. Was he an adulterer now? Was he willingly engaging in an affair?  _ It was just one kiss _ , he told himself, chastising his brain for acting so foolishly.  _ One kiss is nothing to be ashamed about. _

That was true. As long as he didn’t make a habit of it, then surely no one was hurt.

Angela gazed at him curiously, and Myungjun pointed at the door. “I must go,” he murmured in English. “Sorry.”

“Be safe,” she responded, offering him a small smile.

He nodded to her and escaped out his front door, taking a deep breath as he walked down the staircase. Dongmin was likely in bed already; he worked early mornings and had not slept well the previous night. He wouldn’t have any awkward run-ins, in that case. Still, he hurried along, having to hold onto his hat as he jogged outside.

The night was still. The street lamps were lit, casting eerie glows across the roadways, and Myungjun stared at his own shadow for a minute or two. He felt lost. He knew he had to continue on with his immortal life, but he didn’t know for how  _ long _ his immortality would last.

_ Forever _ , he reminded himself,  _ for that is why it’s called immortality. _

And then,  _ shut up, _ he begged his mind, finally scurrying down the familiar path he took every week to the morgue.  _ Shut up, shut up, shut up. I refuse to live forever _ .

No, there were definitely ways to end the curse of immortality. All he needed was to stab himself with one of his many weapons. He could go with a wooden stake to the heart, though that would be more difficult to align; it was likely the stake wouldn’t hit its intended target, and then he would still be alive. He could always slice his neck open with silver, but it seemed like such a horrible way to go. Silver was extremely painful to vampires, and Myungjun, having experienced it once, was not sure if he would like the element close to his skin. He could swallow garlic, but he suspected he had become slightly immune to the herb since meeting Bin; it would require more garlic, in that case, to kill him, and he would have to suffer as he stuffed it all down his throat.

There was no perfect way to be killed. He would have to ask someone else to do the task for him.

Perhaps the coroner wouldn’t mind. He liked dead bodies, and Myungjun was almost positive he had killed a few people just to look upon their bodies; that lady with the weird tumor growing out of her mouth had died prematurely, after all, through blunt-force trauma, and the coroner had her in his grasp almost the day after she was sent to be buried.

But how was he supposed to go about asking to be killed? How was it pronounced in English? Angela had missed the lesson titled  _ How to ask others to stab a wooden stake into your heart _ . Myungjun had half a mind to return to his apartment to ask Angela to join him, but he supposed the morgue was no place for a respectable young woman.

Not that Angela was respectable, per say.

Myungjun cursed and decided against dying, or asking how to die. He needed a punishment for the kiss he gave to Dongmin, after all, and immortality seemed like a good enough punishment. Besides, he held onto the small sliver of hope that perhaps Bin  _ was _ alive. Maybe Dongmin was right all along. Maybe Bin was unable, for some reason, to come back home. Maybe he was captured and being held against his will. Maybe he was hurt and simply awaiting the chance to return to the apartments. 

He thought of the possibilities (of which, he learned, there were many) all the while to the morgue, and even upon entering, he remained deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed and hands crossed over his chest. 

The coroner, upon noticing Myungjun’s stance, asked, “Are you alright?”

It was the same question Angela had asked. Once more, Myungjun had no idea how to respond. He merely stared at the coroner for a few seconds before gesturing at the sheet-covered body laying before them.

“Who?” he asked.

The coroner, already familiar with Myungjun’s lack of English skills, responded, “Vampire.”

Myungjun’s heart raced. When was the last time he had killed a vampire? Was this one from a different hunter? It looked to be; from the way the sheet draped, this vampire still had its head. Myungjun always removed the heads off his own vampires, since just their heads could be exchanged for a large amount of cash.

What if it was Bin?

The thought, once introduced, stuck in Myungjun’s mind. He couldn’t shake it off. He couldn’t rid himself of such an awful thought. He merely looked away, feeling sick to his stomach. Would the coroner mind very much if he were to vomit? There was a bucket nearby that would soon be filled with organs they wouldn’t need; if Myungjun puked in the bucket, surely it wouldn’t cause too much of a stink, would it?

Before he could run toward the bucket, however, the coroner pulled back the sheet.

It was a young, blonde man, and Myungjun closed his eyes with relief. So it wasn’t Bin. Bin, then, was still unaccounted for. He was either hurt and roaming the streets, or tied up in someone’s home, or dead and tossed in a--

“Are you listening?” the coroner asked, and Myungjun gave a start as he realized the coroner had been speaking the entire time.

“Um,” he stammered, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Yes. Sorry, Dr. Brown.”

The coroner studied Myungjun for a few seconds more before nodding his head. He began to speak as he poked and prodded the body, though Myungjun paid little attention. It wasn’t as if he would understand, anyway. The coroner talked too fast and used overly complicated words, ensuring Myungjun’s ignorance would remain.

They began to slice open the body. Myungjun leaned in close to peer down at the blood oozing from the cut skin. The ribs were in the way, which the coroner promptly removed, and Myungjun gazed at the heart.

It no longer beat. It remained there, as it would have for centuries and centuries. It was so small, so perfect, and so much like Bin’s.

All hearts looked the same to Myungjun. Unless stricken with some sort of dreadful heart disease, hearts tended to be similar in size, shape, and color. Bin’s heart, then, would look just like this vampire’s heart. When the coroner removed it, Myungjun could see truly how small it was. Bin’s heart always seemed so massive; he had so much love to give, after all, and where else would all that love go if not his heart?

The coroner said something. Myungjun barely heard him speak above the sound of his  _ own _ heartbeat, thudding wildly in his chest.

_ Bin _ , he had asked once, in the throes of passion, his kisses trailing across Bin’s collarbone,  _ Bin, why does your heart beat? _

_ Why would it not? _

_ You are dead. I am dead. It’s peculiar that our hearts still beat. I assumed vampires had no heartbeat _ .

_ Perhaps I love you too much. _

_ Shut up. _

Bin had chuckled and had kissed Myungjun’s head before answering,  _ Immortality is an odd thing, Myungjun. Let us not question it too much _ .

Immortality  _ was _ an odd thing. Immortality had failed Bin; immortality had cursed Myungjun.

The coroner had opened the vampire’s mouth. He pointed out the teeth, and the tongue, and gazed down his throat. He made a few incisions here and there, interested in learning more, and suddenly all Myungjun could see was Bin’s face imposed on this body.

Was that a fate which awaited Bin? Would he be caught by some other vampire hunter and brought to this cold table, treated in such a callous manner? Would he be sliced apart, his organs removed and his teeth yanked free of his mouth? Would he then be buried in an unmarked grave, doomed to become food for the worms?

The corner cut open the vampire’s stomach, and Myungjun stumbled backwards.

“Are you alright?” the coroner asked him, the  _ same fucking question _ , and Myungjun still had no idea how to answer it.

He was going to be sick, he knew that much. He was truly going to vomit, and he was going to cry while he did so, and he was going to beg for death. He couldn’t stick around here, not if he was to make a fool of himself and likely die in the process (for Myungjun knew the coroner would have no qualms about killing him). So he left, running out the door and down the hallway. The coroner did not call after him, but that was fine. Myungjun wouldn’t have stopped, anyway.

Once he made it outside, he took a few shaky steps and promptly vomited into some overgrown bushes. He gagged and retched, tears streaming down his face as his stomach turned over and over again. He couldn’t stop thinking of Bin, of his lifeless body being abused in such a manner. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know how to stop the turmoil in his mind.

He waited until he had emptied the contents of his stomach before making his way home, keeping his eyes trained on the path in front of him. He was afraid to look in the shadows, afraid to find his dead lover. No, he couldn’t look for Bin anymore. He knew he would only be disappointed.

Upon arriving home, however, he realized he did not want to go into his own bedroom. What awaited him there, save for loneliness and the reminders of Bin strewn about? Angela could help ease his grief, but she was sleeping. It was late, after all. He couldn’t wake her.

He lingered briefly in the lobby of his apartment building before resolutely making his way upstairs. He passed the second floor and headed straight for the third floor, where he then proceeded to knock loudly on Dongmin’s door.

It took a few minutes, a few different methods of knocking, before Dongmin opened the door, blinking back grogginess and surprise. “Myungjun?”

“Hello,” Myungjun greeted.

“You look…” Dongmin swallowed. “You look terrible.”

“You don’t look too bright yourself. Might I come inside?”

Despite the time and intrusive behavior, Dongmin still nodded. He stepped aside and Myungjun crossed the threshold into Dongmin’s home, instantly shedding himself of his coat and top hat.

“Have you been crying?” Dongmin asked.

“Astute observation.” Myungjun sniffled and rubbed at his nose as Dongmin took his belongings. “I just…”

“I know.”

“We were chopping up the vampire, and I couldn’t stop thinking about  _ Bin _ .”

Dongmin grimaced. “I’d rather not hear of your job. The less I know — I mean, in this case, ignorance is truly bliss.” He gave Myungjun’s shoulder a pat and asked, “Would you like to sit down?”

Before Dongmin could lead him to a seat, Myungjun began to blabber. “I feel at fault. If I was not a hunter, then maybe he wouldn’t be targeted. That’s what happened last time, and maybe it’s happening again. Or, or perhaps another hunter has gotten to him — Dongmin, what am I to do if I find his body in the morgue one day? How am I to go on if he’s dead? Oh,  _ fuck _ , how the hell do I go on without him?”

It was by some miracle that Dongmin managed to sit him down and hand over a cigarette, which Myungjun lit with shaky fingers.

Dongmin sat beside him on the couch, keeping his legs tightly closed as if worried that Myungjun would look up underneath his nightshirt. 

“I think you rely too much on Bin sometimes.”

“He’s the reason for my immortality,” Myungjun snapped. “Of course I rely on him. He was supposed to always be by my side. He wasn’t supposed to leave me alone like this. Now how else do I get through the rest of immortality?”

Dongmin cleared his throat. “Well,” he murmured, “I did say that I would...maybe, I would have to think on it, but if you would like an immortal partner, then I…”

Dongmin never did finish what he wanted to say. Myungjun watched through bloodshot eyes as Dongmin stammered and wrung his hands together. He was truly adorable, and absolutely precious. Myungjun knew better than to corrupt him with the vampiric way of life.

“I don’t want you to become a vampire,” Myungjun responded. He wiped at his face, wincing when he realized how raw his nose and cheeks and eyes had all become. 

As if sensing his discomfort, Dongmin stood and left the room. He returned with a washcloth and a basin of water. He began to gently dot away at Myungjun’s face, and the water felt absolutely lovely to Myungjun’s damaged skin.

“Why can I not become a vampire with you?” Dongmin asked after a few minutes had passed in silence.

“I don’t believe you would ever like to hurt humans.”

“ _ You _ don’t hurt humans.”

Myungjun made a small noise, and he whispered, “I’ve hurt a few,” before adding, “And I don’t consider you sneaky or crafty enough to take on such a role.”

Dongmin frowned, but Myungjun continued after taking a drag of his cigarette. “You are not a despicable creature, nor should you become one. You have a career, and you enjoy the daytime, and you are  _ pure _ . You’re pure, Dongmin, you’re pure and you do not belong in the shadows. Bin and I do. We have been vile for years, and so perhaps this is our punishment.”

“I don’t believe for a single second that you ought to be punished for anything.” Dongmin let the washcloth rest on Myungjun’s cheek. His hand gripped it, knuckles becoming pale, and he whispered, “You’re too lovely for punishment.”

Myungjun’s stupid heart, beating inside his stupid chest, ached for comfort that inimacy could bring. His stupid heart yearned for Dongmin’s lips upon his, for their naked bodies to intertwine, for intercourse to calm his soul. He gently placed a hand over Dongmin’s, pulling the washcloth away, and let it fall to the ground between their feet. He ground out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

Then, for a second time, he kissed Dongmin.

This kiss was far less chaste than the other one. From the start of the kiss, Myungjun devoured hungrily, tongue pushing inside Dongmin’s mouth, tasting him all over. Dongmin made a noise but kissed back with enthusiasm, as if having waited for such a moment to arise. He wrapped his strong arms around Myungjun’s body, and,  _ oh _ , he felt so much like Bin.

In fact, with his eyes closed, Myungjun could  _ see _ Bin. It was Bin writhing beneath him in nothing but a thin nightshirt, wasn’t it? It was Bin panting into his mouth, moaning with all of his touches. It was Bin who touched him back, hands sneaking up to pull at a tucked-in shirt and to lightly caress thin hips.

Myungjun maneuvered so Bin was laying down, and he whispered against soft lips, “I want to please you, love.”

Bin gasped with delight and nodded his head. He couldn’t say anything, for Myungjun had captured his lips once more. Myungjun’s hand snuck down Bin’s body, up into his nightshirt, and traced patterns across his thighs.

Bin said nothing. He could only moan as Myungjun kissed him over and over again, until their lips tingled and their breaths grew short.

“Bite me,” Myungjun demanded, stretching his neck. Bin hesitated — unlike him, Myungjun thought — but did as requested. This bite was soft, nowhere near hard enough to draw blood, and Myungjun’s stupid heart melted at the action. He wanted to be gentle, then? Perhaps he knew how much Myungjun had suffered in the past few days, and he wanted to treat his lover with kindness and respect. Myungjun couldn’t help but smile as Bin nibbled across his collarbone, but he did nothing to correct such a gentle nature.

He decided he quite enjoyed such a different Bin.

Bin’s hand cupped his cheek and their lips reconnected. Myungjun took in a deep breath as he parted and nuzzled his face into Bin’s hand. His scent was there, so familiar and warm, and as Bin’s free hand rubbed at the front of his pants, Myungjun couldn’t help but whisper, “I want to fuck you. Please.”

Apparently, his command was taken to heart, for Bin nodded his head eagerly and laid back, allowing Myungjun to do as he pleased.

Myungjun smiled and grasped Bin’s sex finally. He was half-hard, and Myungjun was delighted that he would have the opportunity to make him fully hard. He could already feel the erection slowly growing in his hand.

“You’re growing so big,” he cooed, pulling Bin’s nightshirt up to his chin planting kisses across his chest. He flicked his tongue against a nipple and Bin moaned. “Such wonderful noises you’re making, Binnie.”

“Binnie?” Bin questioned, and suddenly Myungjun remembered that Bin was missing.

This wasn’t Bin at all.

He released Dongmin’s cock and scrambled backwards, to the other side of the couch. Dongmin, face red in humiliation, quickly covered himself and cleared his throat, refusing to meet Myungjun’s eyes.

Myungjun wasn’t sure what to say. He straightened out his shirt, though it remained untucked from his pants, and he looked away as Dongmin struggled with making himself decent. Oh, how  _ embarrassing! _ Had he really mistook Dongmin for Bin? How did such a thought get into his mind? Was he really so far gone that he couldn’t see the difference between his lover and his best friend? Or did he simply crave intimacy so much that he was willing to forgo all of his morals in an effort to forget about his missing boyfriend for even a few minutes?

He opened his mouth to say something, to apologize or to change the subject, but the front door suddenly opened. Minhyuk stepped inside and gazed upon the two of them.

“Have...have I walked into something?” he asked.

Myungjun sighed and flung himself backwards on the couch, while Dongmin shook his head adamantly.

“We were...we were just talking!” Dongmin exclaimed, his stammering voice instantly giving away his humiliation. “Nothing else was going on!”

Minhyuk hung up his coat and scoffed. “It looks to be something more.”

“It was nothing!”

“I expected better of both of you,” Minhyuk continued as if Dongmin had said nothing. “Dongmin, aren’t you in love with Angela? And what about Bin, Myungjun? As much as I disapprove of your relationship with him, I believe this one might be worse. Buggery  _ and _ adultery? It’s far too much.”

Myungjun rolled his eyes. “Keep your damn mouth shut, Minhyuk, or I’ll start sucking Dongmin’s cock just to make you uncomfortable.”

Minhyuk glared at Myungjun. “You wouldn’t do something so despicable, even to spite me.”

“Oh, I’ve done  _ much _ worse.”

He could tell Minhyuk refused to test him. The boy pursed his lips and looked away as Dongmin worked on straightening out his hair. “Anyway,” Minhyuk muttered, “has there still been no sign of Bin?”

Myungjun did not choose to respond to that question. He stared down at his lap, and Minhyuk muttered, “Pity,” before retreating down the hallway.

Alone with Dongmin once more, the shame and guilt crept back into Myungjun’s skin. “I do apologize, Dongmin,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to...I mean, I just was thinking of Bin. You reminded me so much of him in that instant.”

“It’s alright,” Dongmin responded, though it certainly didn’t  _ sound _ to be alright.

“Honestly, it was...it was stupid. You looked like Bin. You  _ smelled _ like Bin. I definitely smelled his scent on you. It was…” Myungjun blinked and then glanced over at his friend. “I have not smelled his scent on anyone in a couple of days. Why  _ do _ you smell like him?”

Dongmin looked rather frazzled and confused. “I...smell like Bin?”

Myungjun didn’t dignify his question with a response. He scooted over to Dongmin instead and grabbed onto his hand. Dongmin tensed as Myungjun brought it to his face to smell it.

He inhaled deeply. He could smell Bin. 

His nostrils flared as he continued to sniff Dongmin’s hand, turning it over and over, shocked with how the scent only remained on Bin’s hand.

“You know where he is,” Myungjun snapped.

Dongmin snatched his hand away from Myungjun’s grasp, looking quite affronted. “I do not.”

“Liar. What the hell did you do with Bin?”

“I’ve done  _ nothing _ with Bin! What on earth would I  _ want _ with Bin?”

“It all makes perfect fucking sense,” Myungjun breathed, his heart pounding in his chest once more. “You’re in love with me, Dongmin. You wanted to fuck me without Bin standing in our way. You rid yourself of him so you could be the one I would then turn to. You’re nothing but a filthy, no-good--”

He could get no further. Dongmin smacked him hard across the face, eyes brimming with fury and unshed tears.

Honestly, he knew he deserved that. He knew he had been sorely out of line and had attacked Dongmin for no good reason. He placed a hand over his stinging cheek and looked down, ashamed with his actions and words. 

“How  _ dare _ you!” Dongmin snapped. His voice shook and he lowered his hand. “I’ve done nothing but  _ help _ , Myungjun. I’ve looked for Bin. I’ve asked my colleagues, and some of Bin’s colleagues he had introduced me to. Do you truly think I would make Bin disappear just so I could have you sit on this couch and reject me?”

Myungjun slowly shook his head. “No,” he murmured.

“Then why the hell would you think of putting the blame on me?”

“I…” Myungjun had no good answer. He had lost sight of himself, of Dongmin’s friendship, and guilt flooded through his body. “I apologize, Dongmin. I do. I was confused. I’m...I miss him. I know that doesn’t make up for me blaming you, but I do miss him, and I’m just...I’m trying to figure out why he’s no longer with me. I want to know why he left me.” He spared a glance toward his friend, and was pleased to note that Dongmin seemed to have calmed down a bit. “I’m so sorry.”

Dongmin swallowed thickly and looked away. “Apology accepted. I probably shouldn’t have smacked you that hard. I know what you’re going through. I’m sorry.”

“You have no need to apologize. Perhaps...perhaps I ought to go. I’m merely...I smelled him on you.”

“Did you?” Dongmin held out the affronted hand and looked down at it in confusion. “Did you not smell yourself? Bin’s told me before that your blood smells similar to his blood.”

Myungjun, though, knew that wasn’t quite it. He took the opportunity to sniff again. Now that he had detected Bin’s scent, it was overwhelming, and he muttered, “It’s...strong enough that I know it’s been something recent, and something straight from Bin. It wasn't anything you touched, and it wasn’t me.” He took a deep inhale. “Have you met with anyone new, perhaps, that knows of his disappearance?”

Dongmin’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I did meet someone new, yes. A Korean prince.”

“A...what?”

“There’s a prince who has taken the liberty of visiting America for diplomatic reasons. He wanted to meet with me, as I am the only Korean assemblyman in the entire country. We...I guess we shook hands. I mean, I bowed first, and then we shook hands.”

“A Korean prince?” Myungjun marveled at that. Someone from his native country? Another Korean-born man? That seemed to be the most likely explanation for Bin’s death. Though, other than the small link of their nationality, Bin would have nothing in common with a Korean prince.

“Prince Jinwoo. He’s not a crowned prince, I believe, but he did marry into the family. He comes from a long line of nobility. He’s extremely wealthy.”

Myungjun, instantly curious, leaned in close. “Was he suspicious in any way?”

“N-No, not that I noticed. He seemed nice. He could speak English better than you, though not as fluently as Bin or myself.”

There was no way to figure out what Jinwoo had done, but based on what he heard, he already suspected the man. After all, he carried with him Bin’s scent; that was the only reason Myungjun needed to find him and kill him.

“I need to talk to him.”

“To...the prince?”

“Yes.”

Dongmin blinked, looking absolutely stupefied. “But...Myungjun, honestly, there’s no way you could ever have an audience with a  _ prince _ . He only came to me in an effort to meet a fellow Korean, and—”

“Then he can meet another fellow Korean.”

“It’s not that simple! He’s a powerful man, and you’re...look, you’re fantastic, Myungjun, you know I like you a lot, but you don’t have enough social status to mingle with a prince.”   
Myungjun, already formulating a plan in his head, stood from his seat. “Fair,” he conceded, “so I shall attack him as I do the vampires I kill. I’ll figure out a way into his home, and I’ll take him and—”

Dongmin also stood. “That’s a terrible plan! He has guards with him who will not hesitate to kill for their prince, and the government is well aware of his arrival. If you do anything to him, it will not go unnoticed. You barely have an identity in this country, you work at the morgue, you speak no English, and you sleep with men. They’ll toss you in jail without a second thought!”   
Dongmin made very good points. Myungjun liked to plan, but often he found he was impulsive. The more worried he became, the more impulsive he also became. He couldn’t sit still knowing Jinwoo had done something to his lover, and he gave a small cry of frustration.

“Then what the hell do you expect me to do! I must find some way to talk to Jinwoo!”

“ _ Prince _ Jinwoo,” Dongmin corrected, though Myungjun couldn’t care less about the royal title. “And…” Dongmin pursed his lips in thought. “He  _ is _ hosting a small party at his house. He has invited the assemblymen to come. I was going to attend, but if he’s done something with Bin--”

“If he’s done something with Bin, you  _ must _ attend. You must figure it out for me, Dongmin!” But Myungjun knew it would be difficult for Dongmin to figure out any information on his own. Dongmin wasn’t used to a life of kidnapping and murder and mayhem. He had only recently joined in, and though he had two murders under his belt (the bishop counted, and Myungjun supposed he should count Angela’s husband, for Dongmin  _ knew _ of it), he was not prepared to deal with anyone who could single handedly take out Bin. Jinwoo must be strong and powerful. He must be cruel and vicious. Myungjun would not allow Dongmin to deal with Jinwoo all on his own.

“I will have to attend,” he decided.

Dongmin’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“It’s necessary. You will not apprehend Jinwoo on your own.”

“I believe I could. I did help kill Bishop Dolan, after all.”

“According to Bin, you had done so only on accident. Besides, I don’t want Jinwoo dead. I need him to inform me what he has done with my lover.” Myungjun glanced away, working through a plan in his mind. He paced back and forth across the parlor, mindful of Dongmin’s gaze. “So I will have to sneak in somehow. I will apprehend Jinwoo and force him to tell me — ah, damn, this is not one my most well-thought out plans.”

A few seconds of silence passed before Dongmin spoke up. “Prince Jinwoo currently lives in a gorgeous establishment. He is renting a large home, which is now forfeited with guards, as he’s informed me. He does not leave their sight. This party he is hosting is...unique, in a sense. I mean, it is the first time we’ve had diplomatic relations with the Koreans, even if it’s not  _ exactly _ a diplomatic visit, per say.”

“You’re speaking nonsense, Dongmin,” Myungjun scolded. “Get to the point.”

“Right.” Dongmin nodded his head, appearing quite flustered. “Well, what I mean to say is invitations were only extended to a certain few. There will be a handful of people in attendance. No one else is allowed to come. They shall throw you out the moment you show your face.”

“I’m quite sneaky when I want to be.”

“ _ No _ . I’ll not have you rushing into a prince’s house with no plan and then being tossed outside like some buffoon. You’ll do more harm than good.”

Myungjun knew that Dongmin was right. He scowled, arms crossed over his chest, and asked, “Can you not take Angela, at least? Men always take their fiances and wives to parties, don’t they?”

“Angela is neither. She is my mistress, and she is currently in mourning. It would look poorly upon the both of us if I were to bring her.”

“Some other girl, then.”

Dongmin laughed. He looked quite a sight, leaning back on the couch in nothing but a nightshirt, his hair in complete disarray, his lips still red from Myungjun’s intense kisses. “Really, Myungjun, where on earth do you suppose I could find myself a woman to take to this party? Especially a woman who would do your bidding and threaten a prince in order to find a vampire. That’s ridiculous.”

“This would be much easier if I could attend,” Myungjun snapped. He ran his fingers through his hair and suddenly a thought entered his mind.

“Dongmin,” he breathed, hurrying to sit down beside his friend. “I  _ will _ attend that party.”

“I just said you couldn’t—”

“You’ve never seen me wear that dress Bin had made for me. I can look the part of a woman! I’ll simply need something to add onto my chest to make the appearance of a bosom, and I’ll need a wig in order to hide my short hair, but I could be your lady. I can be your plus-one.”

Dongmin looked rather shocked at Myungjun’s suggestion, but he did not yet shoot it down. Myungjun continued to talk, trying his best to appeal to his friend.

“I don’t speak much English, so it’s not like I will need to talk often. I can hide my face with makeup and rouge. Angela can help me with the dress and whatever else goes with the dress. I will be your demure, Korean lover until I manage to get Jinwoo alone. And I will not kill, nor will I threaten him.”

“You’d threaten him. I know you would.”

“Okay, fine, I  _ will _ threaten him, but only when I’m certain no guards are nearby. I will not allow neither you nor myself to be placed in the midst of danger.”

Dongmin took a deep breath and shook his head. “This entire plan,” he whispered, “is dangerous. If you are caught, I...I do not know what will become of you.”

“I won’t be caught.”

“But if you  _ are _ —”

“I won’t.”

They stared at each other, Myungjun’s eyes wide with hope and desperation. The plan rode on Dongmin. If Dongmin refused, then Myungjun was lost. He would not know what else to do, and he worried all traces of Bin would disappear the moment Jinwoo returned to Korea. He had to find Bin as soon as possible without drawing much attention to himself, and this seemed like the only logical plan.

Fortunately, it seemed that Dongmin thought through their other options, and ended up finally conceding to Myungjun with a nod. “Fine,” he murmured, looking away. “I...I suppose we can do this.”

Myungjun struggled not to cheer. He did, however, lean forward and plant a kiss onto Dongmin’s lips. Dongmin seemed to melt into the kiss, and Myungjun allowed it to continue for a bit longer, overcome with joy. “Thank you,” he whispered once he drew back, but Dongmin was quick to plaster their lips together again.

When they finally finished, Dongmin’s face was red, but Myungjun was far too exhilarated to care much about his embarrassment. “We ought to let Angela know of our plan,” he urged, shaking Dongmin’s arm. “We can purchase a dress from the dressmaker who made my other dress. Angela can find a wig for me, and then I’ll look the part. I’ll be  _ perfect _ . I’ll hang off your arm like the perfect lover, Dongmin, you won’t have to worry about me at all!”

And Dongmin, though initially opposed to the plan, now seemed rather excited.

Myungjun knew he would just like play-acting they were lovers.

Dongmin was predictable and adorable.

**(㇏( >ᵥᵥ<)ノ)**

“Is that not fucking tight enough?” Myungjun gasped out as Angela continued to pull at the strings of his corset.

She merely laughed — she  _ laughed! _ — and tugged at the strings one last time. Myungjun knew she could not understand his complaints, but she at least understood his groans and yelps of pain.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Dongmin stated, standing at the window and smoking his cigar. “Bin wears corsets.”

“Yes, but he does not wear corsets designed to fit the smaller waist of a woman,” Myungjun snapped. It appeared Angela had finished pulling at his corset and had now taken to tying it off properly. Myungjun winced once more before she patted his side and allowed him to straighten up.

“How is it?” she asked.

Myungjun understood that question well enough. He shrugged his shoulders in response, but then said to Dongmin, “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It seems just getting on it was miserable.”

Dongmin, already dressed in his finest part clothes, a long tailcoat and a gorgeous vest, smiled widely.

“This plan is absolutely ridiculous,” he commented. “Ah, but I’m so interested to see how you look in the rest of the ensemble.”

Angela was already pulling out the dress she and Myungjun had chosen. It was a dark blue bustle dress, with too many ruffles and fringes, and long sleeves that fanned out toward the elbows. Myungjun thought it was rather pretty, if not a bit heavy. He couldn’t imagine lugging around in the dress all night, and he wondered how it would be if he were to try and fight off Jinwoo.

Angela had to stand on a footstool in order to pull the dress over Myungjun’s body. Dongmin helped, putting out his cigar and doing whatever Angela instructed of him. Myungjun felt like a dress-up doll, and he didn’t entirely hate it. He only wished Bin could join in next time, for he would love to see the look on Bin’s face as Myungjun was made up like a woman.

Damn him, he might be too seduced. Myungjun, sparing a glance in the mirror, decided he  _ was _ quite attractive, even without the wig just yet.

He had to mention it, as well, to cut through the English conversation Angela and Dongmin had partaken in.

“I’m beautiful.”

Dongmin laughed and nodded his head. He translated for Angela, who beamed and began applying some extra makeup to his face. 

“You truly do look like a woman,” Dongmin commented, admiring Myungjun’s figure. “Perhaps Bin was correct.”

“Bin told you I looked like a woman?”

“He told me you fit into dresses well enough. He said your figure is definitely delectable.”

Myungjun furrowed his eyebrows. Angela scolded him briefly, as her hand had slipped with Myungjun’s movements. He had to be still, then, and he could barely move his mouth to talk, so he settled on giving Dongmin a one-fingered salute, something he had picked up from the Italians (and he did so love the Italian immigrants and all their rude gestures - Europeans were truly something else).

When Angela had finished with his face, the wig was next. Myungjun’s neck felt brittle underneath all of the weight, especially when Angela added on a hairpiece.

“How the hell do women survive?” he wondered to Dongmin, glancing at himself in the mirror.

“I think we’ve established that women are quite strong,” Dongmin responded. He then gave Angela’s back a small pat and offered her a smile. She beamed, and Myungjun wondered why he did not feel more guilty for having put himself between the happy couple.

Ah, well, he already knew he was a rather despicable creature. His lack of remorse in this instant was expected.

Finally, he was ready. He stared at his unfamiliar face in the mirror. He truly  _ was _ very womanly. His height was to his advantage in this instant, and his softer features that Bin had always cooed over made him appear every bit as feminine as Angela did.

Angela fussed over him a little bit more, giggling all the while. When she finished, she planted a kiss to his cheek and whispered, “Good luck!”

Myungjun returned her kiss, and he heard Dongmin mutter, “This is certainly a fantasy of mine.”

Rolling his eyes, he faced his friend and replied, “Fuck off, Dongmin.”

“I’m joking.” Dongmin offered his arm, which Myungjun graciously took. They bid Angela farewell and headed off.

A coach awaited them outside. Dongmin helped him in, and Myungjun stumbled over his bustle skirt before he was finally able to find a comfortable sitting position. He truly did not know how women were able to handle all of the fabrics draping off of him. He was hot, too, despite how cold it was outside, and despite the fact he wasn’t necessarily supposed to feel temperature changes, and he fanned himself with his hand once Dongmin had sat down beside him.

“Now,” Dongmin started as the coach moved, “you must stick by my side at all times. You do not know English, so don’t bother speaking it. Many of the women and men will perceive you as idiotic, but you pay them no mind. You are to keep silent and wrap your arm around me and curtsey, as Angela taught you. Drink what is offered to you, but please don’t drink too much. Make yourself as inconspicuous as possible until we see the prince.”

Myungjun nodded, though his mind was spinning with the new gender roles he was supposed to take up. He supposed he could handle it until he found Jinwoo, at which point he and Dongmin would work on forcing Jinwoo somewhere by his lonesome, and then they could strike.

“You have your knife, correct?”

Myungjun nodded his head and patted along one of the seams on his skirt. Angela was a crafty seamstress, and had taken the time to make a pocket for a knife.

“I’m certainly not advocating for murder,” she had apparently told Dongmin, “but I do want Bin back so you can stop spending so much time with Myungjun.”

Dongmin took a deep breath. “This is exhilarating,” he murmured, leaning back in his seat. “And terrifying. By god, mostly terrifying. I’m terrified.”

“Mm,” Myungjun replied, peeking out the window. 

“How are you not scared?”

“This is normal for me. You must remember, I am a vampire hunter.”

“Yes, but Prince Jinwoo is  _ human _ .”

“Which makes it all the easier. And if he hurt Bin, then he’s no better than the vampires I kill and behead.”

Dongmin looked a little ill, and so Myungjun decided to ease his mind with talk of other things. He asked about Dongmin’s political ambitions, but that made Dongmin seem all the more nauseous, and so Myungjun did the only other thing he could think of.

He leaned over and kissed Dongmin.

Fortunately, that perked Dongmin up. 

By the time they had reached Jinwoo’s residence, Dongmin was ecstatic, once more, to play the part of Myungjun’s lover. He acted as gentlemanly as possible. He helped Myungjun down from the coach and walked him past the guards. He introduced him to a few colleagues mingling inside and, all the while, kept Myungjun’s arm locked in his own.

“She’s exotic,” one of Dongmin’s colleagues mentioned. Myungjun understood that, at least, but he kept his eyes averted, ensuring there was no sign of word recognition. 

Dongmin replied with something else, the English flowing from his tongue effortlessly. From his lessons with Angela, Myungjun was able to understand a few words;  _ She’s Korean _ , and  _ my third cousin _ , and  _ I love her _ .

Myungjun smiled lightly, though he hid it well with a cough. As the colleague left, Myungjun couldn’t help but whisper, “How much do you love me?”

“Knock it off.”

“It sounded so genuine. Dongmin, do you love me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Adorable.”

“I said to knock it off.”

Myungjun giggled, but nodded his head. Still, he had to add, “Perhaps Bin will ease my conscious and allow us to fuck each other.”

The tips of Dongmin’s ears were bright red, but he cleared his throat and said nothing except, “Would you like some punch?”

“Oh, please.”

He followed Dongmin to the punch bowl. It was quite good, not something he had tried often. He sipped at it graciously and scanned the room until he caught sight of the only Korean man around.

“Is that the prince?” he whispered.

Dongmin didn’t even look over. He simply nodded his head and took a deep breath. “I should introduce you. He was drawn to me earlier, as I am the only Korean man, so he ought to be drawn to you.” He finished off his punch and passed it to a nearby waiter. “Alright. Come along.”

His hands were getting sweaty, Myungjun noticed. He tried to comfort his friend by rubbing at his arm, but Dongmin did not appear to notice, eyes set solely on their goal.

Jinwoo noticed them and smiled widely, hurrying over. He wore western clothes, which Myungjun had not expected to see on a prince, and he looked a little flush. Perhaps he had already consumed some alcohol. Nearby, a few guards remained, and Myungjun wondered how they would go about pulling Jinwoo from the watchful gaze of such men.

“Hello!” Jinwoo greeted, his voice deep and rumbling. He was short, Myungjun noticed now that he stood close to them. Broad, but short. He should be easy enough to threaten.

Dongmin bowed and lightly tugged on Myungjun, who curtsied with obedience. 

Jinwoo also bowed, though quickly and a bit disrespectfully. When he rose again, he asked, “Dongmin, right?”

Dongmin nodded his head, and Jinwoo beamed, his eyes turned upwards into crescent moons.

“Who is this?”

“Myunghui,” Dongmin responded, using the agreed-upon name. Myungjun curtsied again, trying his best to act the part of a demure woman, though he felt his insides turning. He could smell Bin’s scent all over this man. It was strong, strong enough that it must have been recently that Jinwoo had touched Bin. The thought made his blood boil, and it took everything in his power not to attack Jinwoo right then and there.

Jinwoo stared at Myungjun for a few seconds. He cocked his head slightly and gave a slight sniff before mentioning, “She is very beautiful!”

Jinwoo had smelled him.

Jinwoo had sniffed him.

Myungjun tried to indiscreetly smell himself. Perhaps he was smelling the potent perfume Angela had sprayed all over him. Or perhaps he was smelling the cigarettes Myungjun had been smoking earlier to calm his nerves. 

Or he smelled Bin.

Myungjun’s blood was mostly his own, but Bin’s vampiric blood ran through his veins. The scent, therefore, was similar. If Jinwoo knew Bin’s scent, perhaps he smelled it on Myungjun.

But how could he do that, unless he was a vampire?

Myungjun realized it so suddenly, so quickly, and he felt his head spin. Jinwoo was a vampire. That was the only logical explanation. Why else would he have taken Bin in the first place? And why else would he smell like Bin? And why else would he sniff Myungjun?

If he was a vampire, though, why would he suck Bin’s blood? Myungjun had never heard of a vampire using another vampire’s blood for feeding. Myungjun and Bin bit each other often, but only for a quick taste. From the smell of Jinwoo, he had been doing a lot more than just taking a quick taste. He had been using Bin to feed.

Dongmin suddenly cleared his throat and Myungjun glanced over at him.

“Prince Jinwoo is inquiring about your reasoning for coming to New York City,” Dongmin murmured.

Myungjun pursed his rouge-covered lips and turned his gaze toward Jinwoo, who looked far too interested for his own good. He was overly eager, like some sort of young child. He didn’t look to have the immortal wisdom of a vampire. Perhaps, then, he was not a vampire. Maybe he had murdered Bin. Or maybe he had taken Bin as a lover. Bin did love money, and if a prince waved a handful of gold in his face, Myungjun would expect Bin to do something stupid in order to obtain that money.

Myungjun knew he had to stop thinking so hard about the reason Jinwoo had Bin. Instead, he had to think of a way to get Jinwoo alone.

He tugged lightly on Dongmin’s jacket, and Dongmin responded to Jinwoo, “I apologize. She is not a good orator. She came with her husband, who has since passed. I met her in my apartment building and fell in love with her.”

Jinwoo cooed a little bit. He  _ really _ didn’t seem like a vampire. “I do love a good love story,” he commented, that same, stupid smile still plastered onto his face. “I do not have such a story, unfortunately, so I always love to hear about other couples.”

“You married a princess, though,” Dongmin pointed out. “You have become part of the royal family. That’s impressive.”

“Mm. Impressive, but lacking all semblance of love. And, of course, I have concubines who are not so pleased with my new rank. They believe Princess Min has taken up all of my attention.” He gave another small hum, then laughed. “I suppose they are not wrong. Becoming a prince has been very tiring, after all. I mean, I already came from a noble family, but this role is a bit more public-facing. I’m dreadfully exhausted. America is much different; though I can hardly speak English, I have been enjoying myself immensely. I don’t think I’ll ever want to return to Korea!”

Dongmin laughed along with him, though Myungjun had known Dongmin long enough (and intimately enough) to recognize fake laughter. He offered his own small smile, trying his best to play along with his role.

“I have to say,” Jinwoo continued, “I am quite impressed with your position in the local government. There are no other Korean assemblymen, is that correct?”

“That is,” Dongmin confirmed. “It was difficult work to get my peers to trust me. Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it.” He tightened his grip on Myungjun and shot him a small smile. “But then I look at my lovely bride-to-be, and I know I’m making a better place for our children.”

Had the situation been any less different, Myungjun knew he would’ve laughed. As it was, he could only offer yet another smile, his mind still reeling through plans and possibilities as to how to find Bin.

It was Jinwoo who made Myungjun’s job a little bit easier. He gestured outside and asked, “Shall we walk down my gardens? I’ve spoken to most everyone else, and I must admit that I don’t necessarily find myself getting along well with Americans. There’s a language barrier, you see, and also I don’t think they like me.”

“They like your wealth,” Dongmin confirmed. “And your noble title. And the fact that you have concubines; that’s unheard of here.”

Jinwoo’s lips turned downward a bit. He tightened them and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not nearly as magnificent as it seems. Perhaps I’ve made a mistake taking in one or two of my concubines.” 

It was an odd statement, a cryptic statement, but before either Dongmin or Myungjun could inquire about it, Jinwoo smiled again.

“Well,” he said, “let’s go.” As he walked to his gardens, the guards made a move to follow but Jinwoo waved them all off. 

It was far easier than Myungjun had expected. He almost hit Dongmin for asking, “Do we not need the guards?”

Jinwoo led them out of the opened doors and responded, “Of course not. We’re merely taking a small stroll. Besides, I sometimes feel suffocated with them. I understand I am now a prince and am allowed more protection, but it’s bothersome. I want to be left alone, and right now I want to be left in the company of a beautiful woman.” 

He looked pointedly at Dongmin, who asked, “Are you dismissing me in front of my own fiance?”

“Oh, I wish. I know it’s impolite, though. I think I’m used to taking women I find attractive. It’s such a terrible, outdated practice, but here I am!” He laughed and, despite his words, offered Myungjun his arm. “Why not come out and walk with me, dear? Allow your fiance to grab us some punch.”

The request was unexpected. Myungjun wasn’t sure what to do. Dongmin had informed him to keep by his side at all times, but was he supposed to ignore a direct order from a prince? How was he supposed to act like a woman in this case? What would a taken woman do?

Dongmin glanced between the two of them and joked, “If I didn’t know any better, Prince Jinwoo, I’d say you’re trying to steal Myunghui from me.”

“Is it working?” Jinwoo asked.

Dongmin smirked and seemed ready to say more, but Myungjun cut in, making his voice as sweet and feminine as he possibly could.

“I would be honored to walk alongside a prince. Dongmin, please grab some punch for me?”

Jinwoo laughed loudly as Myungjun took his arm. “Seems your fiance has spoken, Assemblyman Lee! Do not worry; though I find her beautiful, I am a man of honor and will not touch her.”

There was conflict brewing in Dongmin’s eyes, and so Myungjun took the opportunity to reach up on his toes and lightly kiss Dongmin.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered against Dongmin’s lips. “I’ll be able to handle myself, love.”

Dongmin swallowed thickly and returned the kiss with such genuine purity that Myungjun longed to melt into his embrace. “I’ll return,” Dongmin assured the both of them.

“With some punch!” Jinwoo reminded as Dongmin hurried down to the drinks.

Now left alone, Myungjun found it even more difficult not to stab Jinwoo right then and there. He thanked the lucky stars above he had taken his silver knife; if Jinwoo was a vampire, it would be better to threaten him with something that could actually cause harm.

Jinwoo led Myungjun out to the gardens, away from the hustle and bustle of the small party. It was far quieter away from the assemblymen and senators and all other sorts of government officials. The guards, too, had tapered off, and Jinwoo and Myungjun were fully alone.

Myungjun kept his mouth shut, unwilling to blurt out crucial information. He couldn’t give himself away so easily. He would wait for a better opportunity.

It was Jinwoo, then, who broke the silence, and asked, “Is Dongmin the only man you’ve ever been with, besides your husband?”

What a ridiculous question. Myungjun had to remind himself not to snort in laughter. He had been with countless men. He recalled the brothel where he worked for a time, the docks where he sold himself willingly to horny sailors, the cheap rooms he used to fuck other men once he had arrived in America. There were too many men to count; his insatiable lust had only stopped when he met Bin, his perfect other half. 

He hadn’t even  _ been _ with Dongmin, and so the words tumbled out of his mouth as an easy lie.

“Yes. Other than my husband, Dongmin is the only other one.”

Jinwoo nodded his head and hummed. He seemed to enjoy humming. Interesting.

“You are a loyal woman, then?”

Myungjun narrowed his eyes. “What are you implying?”

“I think you’re lying to me, Miss.”

“Why do you think that?”

Jinwoo gave a small sniff. Yet again, he was smelling Myungjun. That was all the proof Myungjun needed to fully brand him as a vampire. His lips curled up in a smile, which he hid behind his hand the best he could.

This would be far more enjoyable than he initially assumed.

“You...you don’t seem like Dongmin is the only man you’ve been with.”

So he  _ knew _ . He knew about Bin’s scent infused within Myungjun’s blood. He likely couldn’t prove anything without saying it outright. Myungjun could string this along if necessary.

“Why would you say that, sir?”

“I have a hunch.”

“Your hunch might be wrong.”

Jinwoo grinned. “It might be. You’re right. I just don’t think it is.” He leaned in close. Myungjun could smell him better. Bin’s scent was strong on him. Jinwoo could likely smell the same on Myungjun. “I haven’t been with a woman in a few weeks. Sea travel is dreadful, and I don’t have much opportunity for sex when my wife and concubines are not with me.”

Myungjun refused to budge. His hands went to the small, hidden pocket and he felt at his knife. Jinwoo did not yet notice. “So you wish to have sex with me, then?”

“Only if you desire the same.”

Jinwoo’s hand rose to Myungjun’s thigh. He lightly squeezed at it, and Myungjun pitied him; he was getting a handful of skirts, but even if he could reach the skin, he probably would be terribly disappointed to know he was groping a man.

Myungjun pursed his lips. “Dongmin will be back soon,” he pointed out.

“Then we can go further into my garden.”

“You sound gross.”

Jinwoo made a face. “Well, if you don’t want to have sex with me, then just say so. No need to be rude about it.”

“Fine. I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Jinwoo, despite possibly kidnapping Bin and coming onto a taken woman, seemed to have at least  _ some _ decency about him. He withdrew and gave a light sigh before staring up at the dark sky above him. “Fine,” he conceded. “I highly doubt I would be able to go through with it, anyway. I’m very loyal to my wife.”

“Oh, of course. You seem quite loyal.”

“I truly am. It was a moment of weakness.”

“As was taking Bin.”

“Yes, that--” Jinwoo froze and his eyes grew wide. Myungjun gripped at the knife and waited for the realization to hit the prince.

It hit him quickly. “How did you know about Bin?”

Myungjun took the opportunity and whipped out his knife. He held it to Jinwoo’s neck and snapped, “Where the fuck have you taken him?”

Jinwoo blinked. He made no other movements, save for the changing of his expression. “I knew you smelled like him,” he breathed out. “I couldn’t prove anything, but I know his scent by now. I knew I could smell him on you.”

“Tell me,” Myungjun growled, not at all curious about information he was already aware of.

It was then that Dongmin came strolling up. He managed to balance three punch glasses in his hands, but when he saw the situation he had stumbled upon, he merely sighed and began the arduous task of setting the glasses down on the bumpy ground.

“I do wish you would have waited,” he chastised Myungjun. “It was difficult enough to bring these over.”

Jinwoo’s eyebrows furrowed. “He’s in on it, too?”

“He was the reason I got in,” Myungjun pointed out.

“You’re a man!” Jinwoo suddenly exclaimed, looking at Myungjun again. “Your voice -- fuck, you’re a  _ man? _ ”

“You’re not the brightest person alive, are you? They just make anyone a prince these days.” Myungjun pushed the knife closer to Jinwoo, who instantly shut his mouth. “What have you done with Bin? I’ll kill you and find him myself if necessary.”

That caused fear to light up in Jinwoo’s eyes. He cleared his throat and gestured. “I have him in the wine cellar. I’m so sorry, I didn’t...I mean, I meant to take him, but it was...it was a split-second decision, and--”

“Just take me to him!” Myungjun barked.

Jinwoo nodded his head, and slowly he stepped away from the knife. Myungjun still kept it trained on him, ready if Jinwoo tried anything at all, but fortunately Jinwoo seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. He began to walk, and Myungjun kept close by, holding the knife to his throat.

Dongmin followed, glancing behind them often to ensure they were not being watched by anyone else.

“I’ve only recently turned into a vampire,” Jinwoo blurted out. “I...I was a human just a few months prior. It’s still so new and so weird to me. I didn’t know how to control my bloodthirst. I...I killed several humans.” He glanced apologetically over to Myungjun. “I killed a few of my guards on the journey over here. I had to escape Korea. I thought I would escape what I had become. I was wrong. When I found Bin, I was close to death. I was wandering aimlessly and he smelled  _ so good _ . But he’s a vampire, isn’t he, and he cannot die, so he was...it made sense at the time to take him and use him as an infinite source of food.”

Myungjun did not care to listen to a sob backstory. He had already made up his mind to kill Jinwoo once he had Bin to himself again, but then Dongmin had to interrupt.

“How did you become a vampire?” he asked.

Jinwoo scowled suddenly. “One of my concubines was a vampire. I was not aware of this until after I married the princess. My concubine became jealous and turned me so that I would belong to her. I had to get away from that, so I offered to come and start diplomatic relations with America.”

Dongmin made a soft noise, a sympathetic noise, and Myungjun turned his head to glare at him. 

“Don’t feel pity for this fucking monster,” he snapped. “He’s a vampire, and he has Bin locked away in his cellar.”

“We’re all vampires. None of us are monsters,” Jinwoo gently pointed out.

“Dongmin is not a vampire. He is a good, pure, upstanding citizen.”

“And you kissed him.” Jinwoo grimaced. “You kissed a man right in front of me.”

“You almost kissed me. Don’t be such a prude.” 

Jinwoo gagged a little bit, as if remembering the hand he had placed onto Myungjun’s thighs. But Myungjun cared not for his existential crisis. He cared more about the wine cellar they had just stumbled upon.

“Open it,” he ordered.

Jinwoo probably didn’t need such a command to spin into action. He was already unlocking the cellar with a small key kept in his vest pocket. The stairs that led down were dark and the place looked damp and grimy. Myungjun’s heart beat wildly in his chest at the idea of poor Bin stuck in such a miserable place for days and days.

“You truly are a fucking monster,” he snapped as Jinwoo took him inside. “Why the hell would you keep him here?” And then a better question popped into his mind. “Is he even alive? He needs blood! Vampires can’t live without drinking--”

“There are rats,” Jinwoo muttered nervously. “He...he makes do. I’ve asked him a few--”

“You make him drink rat blood?” Myungjun repeated, wondering if he could just kill Jinwoo where he stood. The world would be better off without such a despicable creature, wouldn’t it? Besides, Jinwoo was a vampire; it’s not as if his life was worth anything. The only worthwhile vampire was Bin.

But before Myungjun could stab Jinwoo in his back, Dongmin reached out and gently lowered the knife. “Darling,” he whispered, still keeping up their lover ruse for some reason, “let’s check on Bin first, and then possibly murder a Korean prince.”

“You have your priorities straight, at least,” Myungjun responded, though he made sure to give Jinwoo a fig hand once they reached the bottom of the steps.

Jinwoo ignored Myungjun’s lewd gesture and instead lit a lantern hanging by a wooden beam. Light illuminated the room, and Myungjun could not see Bin anywhere.

“Is this a trap?” he asked, concern filling his heart. He could take Jinwoo by himself, certainly, but with Dongmin right beside him, he knew he wouldn’t fight well. He would have to make sure Dongmin reached safety; if Dongmin was hurt, he would never forgive himself.

Fortunately, Jinwoo shook his head. “No. He’s down the hallway.”

It was a large wine cellar, though Myungjun had only ever been in one other. It was chilly, too, and they bypassed large boxes of wine as they walked to a closed door.

This one was also locked, and Jinwoo unlocked and opened it for them. He held up the lantern and Myungjun gave a sharp intake of breath.

Bin was chained to the wall with silver. A gag was placed over his mouth and his shirt was missing. Two bite marks were imprinted on his body; one on his neck and one on his shoulder. Bruises surrounded the marks, and dried blood was smeared about. Still, he didn’t appear to be in much pain. In fact, once his eyes adjusted to the sudden light, he seemed to smile.

Myungjun rushed forward and tore the gag off his lover’s face.

“Myungjun!” Bin greeted, sounding far too bright for someone in his situation. “I almost didn’t recognize you in that dress. Fuck, you look so attractive wearing it. I’d fuck you right here if I wasn’t so weak.”

Myungjun kissed him deeply, his heart still pounding in his chest. Bin was alive. Bin was alive.  _ Bin was alive _ . He wanted to scream in joy and exhilaration. He wanted to make love to Bin right where they were. He wanted to keep Bin in his arms and never, ever, ever let him go again.

But though Bin moaned into the kiss and prodded his tongue around in Myungjun’s mouth, he was still bound and tied. Myungjun drew back with a gasp; Bin whined with the loss of warmth.

“Release him,” Myungjun demanded, looking back at Jinwoo who was regarding the whole situation with shock.

Jinwoo gave a small start when he realized the command was directed at him. He nodded his head and dug in his vest pockets for yet another key.

“I apologize,” he murmured, rushing forward to unlock the silver chains. “I’m sorry, Bin.”

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” Bin assured him, grinning. “I mean, I’m a little weak, since rats don’t offer much nutrition and you took a lot of blood, but I suppose I shall live. And something good did come out of this! I’ve been able to see Myungjun completely dressed as a woman. You even have a wig and makeup! My word, you look delicious. I’d love to eat you up right now. I’d stick my head up your dress and suck on your cock, love, and then I’d flip you over and fuck you hard, and then--”

“Hello, Bin,” Dongmin interrupted, grimacing slightly at Bin’s descriptions.

Bin was neither ashamed nor surprised. “Hello, Dongmin. I suspect you took care of Myungjun while I was gone.”

Myungjun frowned. He didn’t care much for Bin’s tone. “I did not need anyone to care for me, you asshole.”

“And, yet, I bet you and Dongmin fucked anyway.”

“They kissed,” Jinwoo mumbled as he shook the chains from Bin’s hands.

Bin laughed a little, seemingly unaffected by such information. “I wish I had been there to see it. Was it good, Dongmin?”

Myungjun glanced over to his friend. Though it was difficult to make out proper colors with the dim lighting, he knew poor Dongmin’s cheeks were red with blush.

“I...I don’t know what you are referring to.”

Bin laughed again and Myungjun found it best to put poor Dongmin out of his misery. “We did not fuck,” he clarified, rubbing at Bin’s sore arms. 

“But you almost did,” Bin argued.

Myungjun glared, but he said nothing. He would implicate himself more if he argued. Changing the subject was his only defense.

“Do you feel alright?” he asked. 

“I do.”

“Well, you  _ look _ dreadful.” Myungjun shot a glare at Jinwoo, who looked away sheepishly. “This asshole made you eat  _ rats _ .”

Bin shrugged his shoulders and stood on shaky legs. “He wasn’t so bad. He kept apologizing the whole time. He cried a couple of times.”

“I did  _ not _ cry!” Jinwoo countered. “I was...I was simply overwhelmed! I’m not used to being a vampire. I didn’t…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to worry you, Myunghui.”

“Myungjun,” Myungjun corrected, and at the same time Bin muttered, “Myungjui sounds like a good name for roleplay.”

Jinwoo nodded his head and grimaced a bit. “Right. Right, I forgot you’re...a man. I’m…” He cleared his throat and glanced back and forth between Bin, Myungjun, and Dongmin. “I’m sorry, this is very bizarre to me at the moment. I have no idea what is going on.”

Myungjun didn’t want to forgive Jinwoo. Jinwoo was the reason he had worried himself for days. Jinwoo was the reason Bin looked ready to fall over. Jinwoo was the reason for all of their problems and issues. Jinwoo, therefore, did not deserve any forgiveness.

But it was Bin, oddly enough, who decided to remain sympathetic. Bin made a small noise and then asked, “Would you like it if Myungjun and I helped you out with this whole vampiric lifestyle?”

“We won’t,” Myungjun instantly refused, shaking his head.

“Well,” Bin continued, “I will, anyway. Myungjun will just roll his eyes at you from afar and threaten you with death.” He glanced pointedly at Dongmin then and added, “Like he does with Sanha, you know.”

Dongmin smiled slightly, and Bin looked back at Jinwoo. “I can give you our address. Dongmin lives right above us, so you can visit at any time and claim it’s for diplomatic reasons. Myungjun can teach you how to feed without killing humans, and you can learn everything else from me.”

Myungjun found it difficult not to punch Bin in the stomach. He reminded himself that he had suffered so much just trying to find Bin, and it wouldn’t do to hurt his lover when he was already weak. But the idea of Jinwoo hanging around them, after all he had done, made him sick.

Bin wrapped an arm around his waist and nuzzled his nose into Myungjun’s neck. “Shall we go home, darling? I’m quite exhausted, and I’d love--”

“I’m not allowing Dongmin to return home alone,” Myungjun countered, slipping out of Bin’s grasp and returning to Dongmin’s side. “You may go home. I’ll continue to act as Dongmin’s fiance, as Myunghui, and then I’ll return when the party is over.”

Bin’s eyes were wide. Dongmin’s eyes were even more wide. Myungjun found it all very comical, and he grinned as he hooked his arm within Dongmin’s. Then, just to drive the point home, he stood on his toes and planted a small kiss onto Dongmin’s lips. When he drew back, Bin gave a scoff.

“Really, Myungjun? You’ve done this elaborate scheme just to turn your back on me after having found me in such terrible condition.”

Myungjun shrugged his shoulders. “You can still walk. Walk home. Dongmin has yet to introduce me to all his wonderful colleagues, and I would like to see the type of spread a prince has on his buffet table. This is my first party, after all, and Dongmin and I will make it count.” Then before anyone could say anything else, he whisked Dongmin away from the wine cellar.

Bin seemed to wait a few seconds before yelling out, “I still love you, Jun!”

Myungjun yelled back, “I love you, too!” and then climbed out of the cellar.

**(๑OwO)**

Myungjun groaned as he swiped a hand across the cum-covered bedsheets. “I told you we ought to have placed something down in order to catch our release,” he complained. “Look at this! I hope you don’t expect me to sleep here. It’s completely unsanitary.”

Bin pulled out of Myungjun with a wince. “You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered, wiping sweat off his forehead. “This is the part where we are able to bask in the post-coitus, and you want to complain about dirty bedsheets?” He rolled over on his side of the bed, on his  _ clean _ side of the bed, and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You are an interesting specimen, Myungjun. Since when have you cared about our bedsheets being clean after sex?”

“Since I had a little fling with Dongmin. He’s incredibly clean. You ought to be more like him.” Myungjun stood from the bed and wrapped Bin’s ugly, yellow robe around his naked body.

That spurred Bin into action. He gasped and exclaimed, “That robe is clean! Why are you wearing it?”

“What?”

“You’re getting cum all over it!”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes! I like that robe?”

Myungjun glowered at Bin, then purposefully patted the robe down, rubbing it across his thighs so it would gather up more cum. Bin whined loudly and buried his face into his hands, clearly distraught.

“Myungjun, you’re ruining my robe!”

“You ruined my bedsheets.”

“That’s  _ your _ cum, not mine. Mine is in your ass.”

“And now it’s all over your robe.”

“You disgust me.”

“The feeling is mutual. I should’ve stayed with Dongmin. His cock is thicker than yours, you know.”

Bin peeked out behind his hands. He looked rather interested. Myungjun couldn’t help but snicker a little at the mischief glinting in his eyes. Some things never changed.

“Tell me more about his cock.”

“No,” Myungjun teased. “Besides, I like yours better.”

Bin dropped his hands and preened himself, sitting up straighter in the bed. He looked absolutely precious, with his hair in disarray and sweat gathered at his temples. He looked healthier, too, now that he was able to feed and he was no longer the personal bloodbank of another vampire. 

“My cock  _ is _ rather nice,” he bragged. “What do you like most about it?”

Myungjun folded his dirtied sheets back, and then made his way around to Bin’s side of the bed, where he pushed his way in. Bin moved over obediently, and Myungjun wrapped his arms around Bin’s naked torso, leaning his head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

“It’s still rather large,” Myungjun admitted, “and it’s warm. And it fits into me just right. And it’s part of you.” He planted a kiss on Bin’s chest and hummed, “I love everything that’s a part of you. I love you, Bin. I love you so, so much.”

Bin was quick to recuperate the embrace. Myungjun grinned, feeling quite at home in Bin’s arms. He nuzzled at Bin’s skin, closing his eyes and allowing his head to rest. 

“I love you, too,” Bin murmured. “I’m so sorry I worried you. I tried to escape; I was weakened, however, and the silver wrapped around my hands did very little to help my cause.”

“It wasn’t your fault at all,” Myungjun mumbled. He felt the sheets rustle, and then Bin wrapped them both in the large comforter. They didn’t need it; it wasn’t as if they would get cold. But it felt nice, and he felt swaddled, with Bin holding onto him and the sheet heavy on his back. He planted a few more kisses on the expanse of skin he could reach.

“I’m sorry I made out with Dongmin and practically gave him a handjob. That certainly was not my intention.”

“I forgive you. It’s likely I would’ve done the same.”

“Bastard.”

“Yes, I know.”

It was quiet for a bit. Myungjun was almost lulled to sleep by the sound of carriages moving just outside, of people talking in the streets below, of Angela cleaning somewhere in the apartment.

But then Bin spoke again. “I was scared.”

“Hm?”

“I know I don’t act like I was scared, but I...I was very scared. I did not know what would become of me. I had never heard of a vampire using another vampire for blood. I knew, though, that I could not survive on rats, not with how much blood Jinwoo was taking. And poor Jinwoo was scared; he didn’t wish to harm me. He didn’t know what to do. But I was scared of him, and his inexperience. Of his bloodlust. Of his stupid wine cellar.” Bin’s arms tightened around him and he whispered, “I was scared of never seeing you again.”

Myungjun’s heart felt heavy. He swallowed around a lump in his throat and craned his neck to place a kiss on Bin’s chin. “You know I’ll come and rescue you,” Myungjun assured him. “Even if I have to dress up as a woman and wear a dress that weighs ninety pounds and have Angela paint my face in makeup and kiss Dongmin to lower suspicion. I’d do anything to rescue you. I’ve told you before, you’re the most important thing in my life.”

He could feel Bin smile, and he laid his head back down onto his chest. Bin’s heart beat at a steady rate. The rhythm was soothing, and Myungjun burrowed even closer, longing to hear it forever.

He thought of the heart the coroner pulled out of that vampire’s body. He thought of how small it was. He assumed Bin’s heart would be of similar size, but he knew Bin’s heart was different.

Bin’s heart was an undead heart filled with more love than any living person could handle.

Myungjun smiled, and with that beautiful heart just under his head, he managed to fall asleep, knowing that he and Bin would always be together.

**ヘ(♥_♥ヘ)**

**Author's Note:**

> oh would u look at that, everything i said about bin dying was a lie
> 
> come say hey to me [@thevonseal](https://twitter.com/thevonseal)! 
> 
> tell me what more you wanna see out of the vamps series. i have no ideas in my hollow head.


End file.
